


The Ghost of What You Used to be

by bewareofbabyjakey



Series: Weekly Drabbles [1]
Category: The Creatures (Youtube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Swearing, immortalbabs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewareofbabyjakey/pseuds/bewareofbabyjakey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alek thinks the boy in apartment 204-B is dead.</p><p>He lives in the building across the complex, and he’s sure, for everyday that he wakes up and walks to school, that the boy upstairs is not alive.</p><p>It sounds ridiculous, yeah, but… it just makes sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of What You Used to be

**Author's Note:**

> Week #3: Ghost  
> Pairing: ImmortalBabs

 

Alek thinks the boy in apartment 204-B is dead.

He lives in the building across the complex, and he’s sure, for everyday that he wakes up and walks to school, that the boy upstairs is not alive.

 

It sounds ridiculous, yeah, but… it just makes sense.

When the sun begins to rise and spread across the sky and Aleks sleepily goes through the door, he blinks his crusted eyes open and sees the broken blinds move haphazardly with a hard pull. He doesn’t see the face at first, but he can feel the stare that follows him as he leaves through the community gates.

When the the sun is starting to sink below the valley mountains, and it’s holding a purple hand over the city, Aleks is hurrying back home where he can finally rest. Maybe do some homework and… and then he’ll slow down, and look up to the open window where the strange guy is looking down again. There’s this dullness accompanying confusion in his eyes as he watches him climb up the stairs, as if he wasn’t really looking at him. Maybe it was to wake him up for from whatever blank state he was in, but Aleks found it polite to wave at him.

The stranger tilts his head and another emotion flickers in his eyes. From his distance, Aleks notes the furrow in his brows and the squint in his eyes. Fear? What? Did he not expect to be seen? Whatever. He just rolls his eyes and goes through the door, the petulant urge to raise his middle finger is ignored in favor of the couch and TV. It’s not like it really bothered him. It really didn’t.

At least, not for the first month.

 

Then, the second month arrives and Aleks is starting to feel unsettled. The same dull eyes continue to burn into the back of his head whenever he leaves and whenever he returns, and it never fails to send chills up his spine. Sure, he’s usually cold on the daily basis, but this was different.

The third month doesn’t change except maybe for the blinds being pulled a bit more high, revealing a loud frown that adds on to the same, befuddled eyes. It’s the kind of expression that somehow manages to linger in the back of his mind wherever he goes, whether it was at school when he played in his music class or when he drifted off on the couch. It was too confusing; it was too familiar.

The months pass by longer and longer, and the blinds are lifted inch by inch till a face was finally shown to be attached to a body. Hell, he even started to hang out the window, arms crossed and head laying in his palm as he blatantly watched every step the teen took.

If Aleks were honest and not entirely _pissed_ for being stalked for several weeks, he could have admitted that the guy was pretty handsome despite having the whole intense and dead look to him.

Oh yeah, he definitely noticed the dead look. Gaunt cheeks, pale skin, dark bags under the eyes - expected appearance of a spirit who’s been forced into the waking world and never found peace with himself.

Well, fuck him. Aleks hasn’t been able to get peace and its reaching fucking December, and he just wants to be able to sleep without feeling goosebumps rise all over his body while he lays in his own bed. Those damn soulless eyes-- they followed him into the streets and into his dreams for many, many weeks and he just wanted it to stop.

It’s this motive that has him storming out into the icy streets, and through the heavy drifting snow one night. He’s not religious, not all ever been to church or ever muttered prayers to God, but there’s a cross in his pocket and memorizations of exorcisms hanging off his tongue. If not just for the sake of his sanity, then maybe whoever continues to haunt him from afar.

His fist is clenched tightly as he knocks at the door. While he’s certain that ghost boy isn’t going to suddenly appear, maybe whoever lived here can let him in and explain.

Aleks stands there, shaking, fist pressed against the door, because each knock echoes back hollowly and he’s sure not sure where to go from there. The last thing he wants is to ask the manager for a key to for an apartment he’s still not sure if someon-

There’s the sound of a door opening.

“Hey! I know you’re in there! Don’t _even_ fucking pretend I’m not here!” The words burst out of Aleks’ mouth before he could even comprehend his thoughts.

Just fuck it all. Anger is what shakes his core, not the bristling cold winds nor the sudden nerves that overtake his hands when the door begins to crack open.

Those brown, empty eyes are seen through the slits of the crack and Aleks almost wants to punch them, wants to slam the door shut because the chills are stronger than ever, and it brought a newfound heaviness that weighs his shoulders down.

 ** _Is he the devil?_ ** His mind whispers. **_Or are you weak?_**

It’s an agonizing wait, just standing there with only his hoodie and beanie to shield him from the winds, and the stupid fucking ghost won’t have the decency to show his face again.

“...Hello?” The greeting is hoarse, filled with hesitance and fear. And that’s enough to make him blow up.

“Hello? Hello? Is that all you can fucking say to me? For fucking six months you’ve been watching me through your dirty ass window and that’s all you can say to me? Six fucking months of feeling exposed, restless, and wondering if I ever did something to defend you! Like fuck, the amount of staring you did sure as hell beat out any fucking teacher I ever had.” That probably sounded pathetic, but he can’t go back, he can’t stop the sudden resentment over everything he’s dealt with the past year alone.

“That’s all you ever fucking do, right? Stare at me like I’m the local freakshow? What, are you mocking me? Yeah, make fun of the emo-looking kid; make fun of loner who lives across the street cause you sure as hell don’t have anything better to do, right?” He spat his self-loathing venom right into the cracked door, prompting the owner to open it further. It allowed him to push in closer, his hand gripping the doorway so tightly he’s sure he feels a crack beneath his fingers.

“I'm the one who has to deal with it, and I don’t need your bullshit. I don’t even feel okay in my own skin and it’s all your fucking fault, you walking piece of decaying shit!” Aleks screamed, his frustration towards him, towards his school, towards the mundane schedule he’s had for the past year with no break and having this creep look at him like he’s insane.

Maybe he is, maybe he truly fucking is.

Now he’s panting, his lungs screaming at the exertion and usage. He’s never talked this much before; never at school and never with the tenants who lived below him. No one’s ever paid this much close attention to him before and now that someone is giving it to him, he just wants…

Aleks doesn’t know what he wants.

He’s not even aware that he’s tearing up until he feels a palm cup his cold cheek. It’s warm, so very warm, and it frightens him. It makes him want to lean in closer.

“I’m sorry, Aleks. I never meant to make you feel like this.” The stranger’s voice, still rough and cracked from his own causes, holds such strong sincerity and sorrow, and Aleks want to flip out again and cry even more.

“I’m so tired of you.” He whispers weakly. “I’m so tired, Jake. I can’t do this anymore. How the fuck am I supposed to go on when all I can see is your face.” How does Aleks know his name? How does this man even know his own name? “I’m not supposed to be here anymore, but I don’t want to leave. I just fucking can’t do it while you’re still here, wasting away.”

The words he’s gasping don’t make sense, none of it makes sense, but the stranger- Jake -is pulling him into a tight embrace and Aleks couldn’t find any resistance in him to fight back.

“I know and I’m so, so sorry.” His apologies are trembling on his lips and Aleks isn’t sure why, but he’s squeezing him closer. “It’s my fault. I was too selfish to let go, and now you’re like this.” Restrained sobs shake his thin frame. “You were never meant to be alone, Aleksandr. You were meant to be free and I took that freedom away from you.”

 

His words: they all mean something, they all mean nothing.

It’s only when Aleks looks over his shoulder to the background does he realize what it means.

He sees the red bass hanging by the TV stand, an instrument with several strings torn, but the paint is shiny enough to know it’s well polished and cared for. He sees several broken CDs in a cardboard box, marker bolded words sticking out with key number **7** and keyword **Sasha**.

He sees the coffee table and the assortment of pictures. A lot of them looked wrinkled, ripped, and slightly yellow from overexposure; they were treasured, loved, and heart-breakingly familiar.

It’s when his gaze strays towards the middle does he finally understand.

A picture of two boys. The teenager on the right catches his attention first. Jake. He’s younger, less rugged and less tired than the version he holds firmly in his arms. Then on the left-- He can see his own face staring back, his present face that held more smiles and hope than he ever saw in himself these past couple of months since… since what?

 

Now he’s the one trembling, the one who has to fend off the sobs bubbling within his chest, forming and fighting to be released as a howl into the dark skies.

Aleks’ arms tightened themselves around the other man, his own act of desperation, and Jake is clutching onto the thinning hoodie, hanging by the literal thread he had left.

“I took away your freedom because I just didn’t want to be alone anymore. But it’s okay, Aleks. It’s okay-- You’re okay.”

There’s a warm kiss to the side of his temple and it envelops him, encloses him. The physical closeness he held is fading, but the warmth isn’t. It’s love, and it’s always going to be there.

Aleks closes his eyes.

 

He doesn’t feel cold anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dead. For a long time. I have two stories that I can't get to go anywhere, so I decided to do oneshots to make myself creative again.


End file.
